Day One
by queenofsarcasm-14
Summary: Erica and Callie start fresh. What happened after 'take off your pants'


**This is kind of a prequel to 'And Then You' which I haven't abandoned by the way.**

**I read an interview with Brooke Smith where she said that Callie sleeping with Mark as practice for sleeping with Erica was 'icky' and I wholeheartedly agree! Actually, I'm pretty pissed off with the whole way that they handled the Callie/Erica storyline, hence why I'm here I suppose. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

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><p>'Take off your pants,' she says, accompanying the command with <em>that smile<em>, the one that's been featuring in so many of my fantasies lately. 'We're trying this again,' she explains and then, suddenly, the scrub top is lying discarded on the floor and she's advancing towards me. I can't help smiling too, God _knows_ I want her, and here she is, practically _begging_ me to undress her. All at once her bare skin is pressed against me, I can smell her shampoo, her perfume, her moisturiser, can feel her lips on mine and her fingers tugging at the ties of my pants, making me shiver. My senses are overloaded with arousal, it's running warm through my whole body and I so almost give in to her. Pulling away from her, gently pushing her hand away from my waistband takes almost an almost herculean effort on my part.

'Callie, wait,' I say reluctantly, trying desperately to get a grip of myself.

'_Wait?'_ She looks me at questioningly, her face showing concern but also a fair amount of frustration, impatience, hurt and embarrassment. 'Why, what's wrong?'

'It's just...' I feel the need to put physical distance between us, lest my willpower fails me, and go and sit heavily on a bed on the other side of the room. 'I don't know Callie, a few hours ago you were telling me that you can't do it and now, what? You've changed your mind? I don't get it.'

Her gaze becomes accusatory. 'Don't _you _want to?'

'You _know_ I do,' I say tightly. 'Look, don't be upset, please. I just want to know what changed your mind.'

Angrily she grabs her scrub top and roughly pulls it back over her head.

'I just wanted to try again, okay? I thought this time might be better, but I guess you're not in the mood or whatever...'

She starts to stalk toward the door, her face set and furious but I make it there first and block her way out.

'Callie, please, don't. Don't be like this. Talk to me. Things need to be _right_ before we go there again.' I'm babbling, desperate not to lose her. Eventually she sighs and her shoulders slump in defeat. Tentatively she covers my hand with hers.

'I'm sorry. I've uh, never handled rejection well. I know,' she says quickly when my mouth opens to protest. 'I know you weren't rejecting me but after last night...wow, I guess we do need to talk. This is um, this is going to be an uncomfortable conversation, huh?' She smiles nervously as a slight flush creeps over her face.

'Yes, probably,' I admit. 'But I think we need to have it.'

'Okay,' she sighs and crosses to the other side of the room. She stands still for a few seconds, looking at the floor and avoiding eye contact. When she does look at me again I get a horrible feeling that she is trying to find the nerve to make a confession. 'I have to tell you something,' she says abruptly, confirming my fears. 'You're going to be mad and you have every right.'

'Alright,' I say, making an effort to keep my voice neutral. I want her to be honest with me.

'I was with Mark today. I told him about last night and...we were together,' she finishes lamely.

I am not mad, I'm devastated. The thought of her being intimate with _anyone_ else makes me feel insanely jealous and when that person is _Sloan_, frankly I'm on the brink of nausea. I can't actually think of anything she could do which would hurt me more. My only consolation is that she looks so ashamed.

'"Together",' I say flatly. 'You mean you slept with him.'

She cringes with embarrassment. 'Um, not exactly.'

'Well, what then?' I ask shortly, not really in the mood to play a guessing game.

'I was worried, okay? I was worried that I wasn't good. _You_ knew what you were doing last night, you didn't even _hesitate._ I just wanted to make you feel good, like you made me feel. So I asked Mark to teach me something, so that I would be better at...you know. So I would be better. I like to be good at things!'

Her words come out in a mortified rush and at first I have no idea what she's talking about. Slowly, realisation starts to dawn on me however and I feel my anger start to build.

'So you're telling me,' I say, my voice rising despite my efforts to control it. 'You're telling me that you went to _Mark Sloan_ for _techniques_ on how to have sex with me and then he gave you a fucking _practical demonstration_!'

'I'm sorry,' she says pathetically. 'I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking.'

'And you were going to try it out on me just now, were you?' I continue, unable to stop myself. 'Were you going to report back to Sloan tomorrow for grading? Compare notes?'

'Erica, no, it wasn't like that,' Callie pleads, looking heartbroken, but I'm on a roll.

'And what happened to 'it wasn't good for you'?' I ask bitterly. 'I was so _good_ that you couldn't even bear to have my hand on your _back_ this afternoon!' My voice is shaking, I'm so upset. There's always been something hidden away in my mind telling me that acting on my feelings for Callie was a bad idea but I've steadfastly ignored it till now. Maybe I should have listened to it, I've probably lost my best friend. I'm so overwhelmed with how humiliated I feel I'm afraid I might cry.

'Look,' I say, trying and failing to make my voice steady. 'Let's just salvage what's left of our friendship and try and forget this ever happened. I know that's what you want.'

'No!' Callie says, forcefully and tries to reach out for me but I pull away. I can barely even look at her. 'Erica, what I said this afternoon-' She breaks off and swallows, tries to compose herself. 'I freaked out, okay? Not because it was bad, because it was _good._ I-I didn't know what to think so I overanalysed and I panicked. And you, you seemed so _sure_ and I just _froze_ and then I _couldn't_ enjoy it because I was so worried about what you thought of me and...fuck, I really screwed up, didn't I?'

'Yes,' I snap, unwilling to forgive her just yet. 'You should have come to _me_! It was our first time, it didn't have to be perfect- we can learn, together. But Jesus, Callie, Mark Sloan does not know what I like!' I yell, petulantly.

She reaches out for me again, looking on the verge of tears herself, and this time I let her embrace me. 'I'm sorry,' she whispers. 'I hate myself for hurting you. I wasn't ready,' she admits finally in a small voice.

'Callie,' I say urgently. 'You can't keep doing this, okay? Running off and doing whatever with Sloan to make yourself feel better about us. I just...I can't take it. It's fine to be confused and panic, we don't have to tell anybody. You can keep me a secret. Just don't go to him again. Every time you do it's like you're running a knife through my guts.'

'If I could take it back-'

'I know,' I reassure her, 'I know you would. But we can move on, as long as this is what you want. This can be day one. But we have to do things properly this time. Is that what you want, to start again?'

'Yes,' she says firmly and I let her kiss me, chastely, on the lips. 'So, we're back to taking it slow, huh?'

I nod. 'As slow as you like. No pressure, for either of us. And _talk _to me if you're worried.'

'You too,' she tells me. 'You can talk to me. I mean, I know you already do because you manage to behave like a sane adult most of the time but I'm just saying I always want to be your person that you tell stuff to. And no more Mark, I swear,' she promises, grimacing.

'Good, because I feel like scratching his pretty little eyes out right now.'

She draws back a little. 'Can we lay down for a little while?I'm really tired,' she asks, a half-smile playing around her mouth.

'Yes, sure,' I reply. If truth be told I feel drained as well, a few hours sleep would be welcome.

'So, you want to be big spoon or little spoon?' She smiles properly and, just like that, the tense atmosphere is broken.

'Big, I suppose,' I say, shrugging and grinning back. She climbs onto the small cot and scooches over, turning on her side. As soon as she feels me next to her she takes my hand and places it across her waist, entwining our fingers. I've never been into overly touchy feely displays of affection but this feels nice, like we're a real couple.

'Callie,' I mumble into her hair, 'You didn't fake it last night, did you?'

'What?' she says incredulously, twisting in my arms to face me, 'No. No way.'

'Good.' I feel the relief flood through me. 'I was worried, when you said earlier...'

'I wouldn't do that,' she says definitely, her tone brooking no argument. 'And besides, I didn't need to.'

'Oh. Good.' I repeat dumbly, feeling ridiculously pleased with myself. She turns around again, but not before giving me a slightly toned down version of _the smile._

'Go to sleep,' I tell her. 'And then, later, dinner and a movie at my place?'

'Sounds perfect,' she says, drowsily.

We're going to be okay.

* * *

><p>'I went to a therapist,' she blurts out two days later in the cafeteria.<p>

'Oh?' I say neutrally.

'Yeah. Not your one. I didn't think she needed another basket case from surgery.'

'Probably not,' I agree, smiling. 'So, did it help?'

'Yeah, I think so. I mean, it wasn't _fun_, but I think it helped. I um, I have a lot of stuff to work through,' she says apologetically.

'Okay.'

'You sure you want to take me on?' she asks lightly but I can see real concern behind the forced humor.

'Yes,' I say simply. 'I'm sure.'

* * *

><p>She comes to my apartment after the whole Stevens disaster.<p>

'I didn't know you wore glasses,' she says when I open the door. I wouldn't have opened it for anyone but her.

'Oh yeah,' I pull a face. 'I usually wear contacts but my eye doctor keeps bugging me to take some time off. I hate them.'

'Why?'

'Because when I was a little kid they made me look like a dork and now they make me look _old_. Tell me you brought wine.'

'Are you kidding me? Of course I did. Here,' she says, handing me the bottle. I swear as soon as I touch it I feel my stress levels decrease. 'You don't look old,' she adds as an afterthought.

'With these things on I look about ninety. But thanks,' I laugh as I rummage around the drawers for the wine key. Her hand rests on my back as I stand pouring, such a small gesture but so comfortable and _easy_. 'Trust me,' she insists, her tone a little more sultry. 'When I look at you 'old' is the furthest word away from my mind.'

'Okay, if you're sure. That's a weight off my mind.' I give in gracefully, almost. 'But I'm still not wearing them in public.'

'When did you get them?'

'Hmm?' I'm a little distracted by the sweet sound of the wine glug-glugging into the glasses on the counter. Is there anything more welcome and needed after the day from hell? 'Um, I was five or six I guess. I can't really remember not having them. Why?'

'I want to know this stuff about you.'

'What stuff?' I ask, a little confused as I hand her her glass.

'You know; your childhood, what your family are like, who the black sheep is.' She frowns. 'It can't be you, surely. Unless your family live in Stepford.'

'No,' I laugh. 'My cousin Bobby is a snowboarder so he gets most of the ridicule.'

'Oh,' she says as if she understands but her face is blank.

'I guess your family aren't skiers?' I ask playfully.

'_Oh_. No, I've never been. Is snowboarding a mortal sin in the Hahn family then?'

'Mmm, pretty much. One of my brothers does some ski instructing in the winter, I'm sure he'd teach you. There's a hill near to where my parents live, that's where I learned. I mean, if you wanted to come,' I backtrack hastily. 'We could go to Aspen or Whistler instead. Or you could go with someone else, you can go wherever you like-'

'Erica,' she interrupts me gently. 'I'd love to meet your family.'

'Yeah, well. When you're ready,' I emphasise. 'I won't inflict them on you just yet, I promise.' I'm so conscious of not pushing her too hard, of not taking steps that she's not ready for that I could kick myself for babbling on about her meeting my parents.

'They sound great,' she says, and then obviously sensing my discomfort, changes the subject. 'I hear you had a crappy day.'

'I did. The wine is helping though. And you.'

* * *

><p>'Hello?'<p>

'Dad? It's Erica.'

'Oh, hey, my favorite daughter.'

'I'm your only daughter,' I say wearily, providing the second half of the familiar exchange we have whenever I call home.

'Right, well you're still number one with me. How are you, honey? I'm afraid your Mom's at the store.'

'I'm fine-'

'Still working too hard, I bet?' he interrupts and I'm reminded forcefully just how much I need him to be okay with what I'm about to tell him. I can't lose my family.

'I'm _fine_. How old do I have to be before you trust me to look after myself?'

'Well, I guess if I don't trust you now I never will, huh?'

'Dad, I um, I want to tell you something.'

'You're moving home?'

'Come on Dad, give me a break. I wanted to tell you...' _Come on, don't chicken out now_**. '**I wanted to tell you that I've met someone, and it's early days but I'm really happy and I just thought you should know,' I say in a nervous rush.

'Well, that's great, honey. Is he a doctor too?'

I decide to take the coward's route and answer the easy question.

'Yes,' I say vaguely, skirting around the glaring issue. 'They're a doctor too, a surgeon actually. Orthopedics.'

'Okay. What's his name?'

I take a deep breath. _Be brave_.

'Callie.' All at once it's out there and I feel a huge weight lift from my shoulders. There's a silence and I feel my heart race in anticipation.

'Erica,' he says at last. 'I hope to God we're talking about a woman here, because if that's what people are calling their sons these days then I don't want to live in this world anymore.'

Somehow I manage to swallow down the huge lump of gratitude and love for my Dad that's formed in my throat.

'Yes Dad, Callie is a she. Look, I understand if you need a little time to process this. It's a lot to take in and-'

'Is she good enough for you?' he interrupts gruffly.

'Dad! Yes.'

'And she makes you happy?'

'Yes. Very.'

'Well, alright then. I'm fine with it.'

'Thankyou,' I whisper into the phone and that's all that needs to be said.

'You know Kali is a Hindu goddess. She's pretty fierce, one picture of her I saw she was wearing dead heads as earrings and a skull necklace. You better watch yourself, honey. You say she breaks bones for a living?'

'She _fixes_ bones for a living,' I correct him, laughing.

'Right. Well, I'd rather have someone fierce looking after my daughter than some drip, anyway. You do need looking after, Erica,' he says before I can protest. 'Everyone does sometimes.'

'Dad,' I grumble.

'Well anyway, bring her home sometime for a visit. I think we'll like her.'

'I think you will.'


End file.
